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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620506">Youth</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/akindofmerrywar/pseuds/akindofmerrywar'>akindofmerrywar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Alphabet Game [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:11:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/akindofmerrywar/pseuds/akindofmerrywar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Geralt smiled. Jaskier's students were so damn young. They reminded him of Jaskier, back when they’d first met all those years ago, when he’d been too foolish and blinded by adventure to think about the consequences of tying himself to a Witcher.</i>
</p>
<p>
Jaskier must be nearly fifty, Geralt thinks. So how is it, he wonders, that the bard still looks young enough to blend in with the students he's now teaching?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Alphabet Game [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983026</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>489</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Youth</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I challenged myself to write a fic for every letter of the alphabet. I took each letter, plugged it into a random word generator and wrote a fic based on whichever word it gave me. This letter is "Y", and the word is "youth"! See more of my Alphabet Challenge on my tumblr, <a href="https://a-kind-of-merry-war.tumblr.com/post/632799468062916608/alphabet-game-master-post">here!</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Oxenfurt Academy was abuzz with activity, as it always was. Geralt watched fondly as Jaskier chatted animatedly to a group of youths - recent graduates, apparently, all keen to learn about Jaskier’s decades on the road.</p>
<p>Geralt smiled. They were so damn young. They reminded him of Jaskier, back when they’d first met all those years ago, when he’d been too foolish and blinded by adventure to think about the consequences of tying himself to a Witcher.</p>
<p>That had been, <em>gods</em>, perhaps thirty years ago. Jaskier was not a young man any more. He was nearly fifty, now, and while Geralt had long since given up on caring about human biology beyond “this is what kills an ordinary person”, he knew that Jaskier had skipped past middle-age some time ago.</p>
<p>And yet…</p>
<p>He peered at him again. His bright blue eyes, his dark hair, the wild abandon with which he flung his arms about. He slipped into the gang of graduates like he belonged there. In fact - they looked of an age.</p>
<p>Geralt frowned. </p>
<p>That night, their limbs tangled together in the fine bed the Academy had provided, Geralt mused out loud about Jaskier’s apparent youth, the way he’d looked among the graduates.</p>
<p>“How do you do it?” he asked, finally.</p>
<p>Jaskier twisted in the bed to look at him, one hand pressed to Geralt’s chest. He tilted his head to one side.</p>
<p>“You mean after all this time,” he said, “You’ve still not worked it out?”</p>
<p>“Worked what out?”</p>
<p>Jaskier grinned, and just for a moment there was a flash of something <em>other</em> in his features - in the sparkle of his eyes, the fix of his mouth, the flash of his teeth. And then it was gone. </p>
<p>“Oh Geralt,” he said softly, lying his head on Geralt’s chest with a sigh, “I do love you."</p>
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